Chapter Text
Halloween night was always Harry’s least favorite day. With the Dursley’s, he had to sit in his cupboard, watching through narrow slits as they pigged out on candy. They never offered him any, and seemed to make sure he knew that he was lucky for their generosity. It didn’t help that he then had to deal with Christmas, where he would see his aunt and uncle dote over Dudley.
There was a small part of him, Harry realized, that was jealous of Dudley. He had parents who loved him and built up his confidence, whereas his died. Yes, they died to protect him, but it still hurt. Many times he wondered if his parents died because they were ashamed of him and his freakishness. Adults around him refused to truly help him, believing that he was just a delinquent and liar, trying to get good folks into trouble.
Until Hagrid, at the very least.
Harry smiled at the thought of his half-giant friend. How he thought acromantula and dragons were cuddly pets. Letting out a soft sigh, he looked over at the school and his mentor. Albus Dumbledore couldn’t help but smile at the brave man that Harry became. Despite his eccentricities and aloofness, he was still a powerhouse.
And Harry, a boy he grew to love like a grandson, a boy who had been neglected by the Dursley’s and still risked his life to save them, was more powerful than Albus Dumbledore was when he dueled his former lover Grindelwald.
“Go, my boy.” He murmured, blue eyes welling with tears. Ever since the death of Quirrell, the two had become a family of sorts. The regret of leaving him with the Dursley’s led to many sleepless nights, and then having to tell him about the vile magic that Tom Riddle, once a student that he tried to help, had used to pervert the many priceless items. In the guilt that surrounded the old man, Harry offered up the chance to atone for his sins by revealing Lucius Malfoy’s plot to use a horcrux to ruin Arthur Weasley’s Muggle Protection Act, as well as Peter Pettigrew’s deception, in front of the Minister himself!
In the years that followed, Sirius was unable to get full custody due to bribes from the Nott family, but Harry made sure Sirius remained calm. Sirius offering to tutor Harry was surprising, but Harry accepted it. When Fudge tried to stop it, Harry twisted it into a powerful weapon against corruption, pointing out how he refused to believe that Sirius was innocent at first, and how he sent dementors to the school. How they were attracted to him due to his past and how they nearly kissed him three times.
Albus remembered smiling benevolently at that, as it proved that Harry represented the very best of Hogwarts, whereas Riddle represented the worst. Harry learned the dark arts, explaining that he’d learn them to destroy them, while Riddle learned them and then went down the path of hellfire and brimstone. He preyed upon the prejudices of pure bloods that refused any to use common sense, and twisted many innocent young minds into sacrificing their innocence for the briefest taste of the apple of power. His rise led to corruption that had nearly damned their Statutes and world.
“I’ll be back, sir.” Harry replied, twisting and disapparating with an almost inaudible pop.
“I know you will, son. Just be careful.” Only Filius heard those words. It was a harsh reminder of what had transpired barely a week ago. Severus Snape proved what side he was truly on with the brutal murder of Ragnok and the loss of Bill Weasley’s left eye and hand.
And, in one of the most awe-inspiring moments the Charms master had ever seen, Harry Potter forgave Snape. He allowed him to leave with only a warning that truly surprised those in the bank. A warning that all goblins respected, and used as evidence to offer him the title of Advocate.
“Severus Snape. Though your crime is not against a human, know this. I forgive your actions. You shall leave this establishment with three things. The blood of His Majesty, King Ragnok of the United Clans of Goblins that run our economy. You have the trophy your master demanded, a trophy for which you will be suitably rewarded for by him. And you have the lone warning I shall give, and you will give it to Riddle. Warn him that Phanes, an avenging angel, shall come calling. Tell him he has seven days to show remorse for the lives he has taken, unjustly. Seven days of atonement for his sins. Seven days before I shall accept the role of judge, jury, and executioner for Phanes and on that day, we shall erase the dark cloud he has hoisted over the country, and the brightest day shall burn all dementors that dare come near us upon the field of battle. Warn Thomas Marvolo Riddle, the self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort that in seven days, should he ignore this warning, he shall be burned with the knowledge that he and he alone would be the cause of the destruction of himself.” Snape, however, just sneered at the boy.
“And you think you shall be the one to best him!? Not even your father had such arrogance. He knew when to respect his betters. Shame he didn’t accept my lord’s generous offer to join our cause.”
“It is not arrogance. It is the truth. And I promise you, when you see the true me, you will truly understand why the goblins are not ripping you limb from limb. But rest assured, I shall gift them one of two things upon the eighth day; either you, still of the living, for their judgement, or the memory of your death.”
“Do you think that he will fail?” Minerva brought Filius out of his stupor. Albus had stayed staring into the night sky, with hope evident in his eyes. Hermione was sobbing in the back, clutching Ron’s arm as if it was the only thing keeping her upright. Draco Malfoy, for all his faults, had seen the error of his ways while Umbridge was in the school, being the High Inquisitor. He had revealed, in an interview that was published in the Prophet, what was going on. How his father was pardoned due to bribes and that Voldemort resided in Malfoy Manor.
In that interview, with him being publicly named, he destroyed the notion of Harry and Albus lying at the cost of his standing in Slytherin. Crabbe and Goyle attacked him, stopped by Blaise Zabini and the Greengrass sisters. Astoria unearthed the compassionate side of the Malfoy heir, as her sister did with Neville Longbottom. Pansy Parkinson, however, didn’t care for him anymore. She and her father viewed him as a security net in case of the resuming of hostilities and immediately searched out a better ally.
“Fail?” Dumbledore mused aloud, hearing the cries of fear from Harry’s friends. “He is not me, so he shall succeed.”
“W-What d-do you mean!?” Pansy sneered at Hermione’s question, but her reply was cut off by the laughter of the headmaster.
“Fear. Harry fears Voldemort, true, but he fears what would happen to his friends and family more than anything. I feared dueling Riddle, but that was due to my past and hubris. As I looked at Harry during our last sparring session, there was no doubt in my mind that he is better than I. He will not sit idly, as I did with Grindelwald, but search for ways to make sure he could defend the light. And, Miss Granger, you are the light I speak of.” The teen referenced flushed a brilliant red, while Ron rolled his eyes good naturedly.
“Told you.” Was all he said, as Neville patted her shoulder while hugging Daphne. The Golden Trio, a name all hated, but accepted as a moniker to offer up some confidence in others, stood strong in the face of the darkest moments, like the Hogsmeade assault and the Inferi Apocalypse on Azkaban. Ginny had started dating Zabini, who offered up more protection than expected. Ron had taken up the position as the DA Strategist, working closely with Tracey Davis, leading to their own relationship
“Harry will win. Remember the first task?” Neville commented, his eyes glassing over in memory. Ginny snuggled into Blaise's side and let out a content sigh.
The first task arrived, and all were eagerly awaiting Harry’s turn. The dragons had been brought in, and some of the more adventurous seventh year students were invited to help the tamers, but only if they held an Outstanding in the majority of their years in Care. Hagrid was just elated to have dragons on the grounds again.
As some of the tamers and their aides led the Chinese Fireball back into the pen they created for it, the most experienced ones brought in the Hungarian Horntail. All students paled at the sight of the beast, thinking it was more of a demonic entity than a dragon.
The spikes adorning the tail gouged the ground surrounding her egg clutch, with the yellow eyes blazing with anger, creating the image of a wildfire raging through a city. Her wings were furled, and one of the lead tamers could be heard whimpering for the child who would face her.
Snarling at the sudden appearance of Harry, mixed with Ludo Bagman’s voice being amplified, showed off fangs that made all the spectators feel as if they were daggers. The talons were dangerous, but most thought they would be the safest thing to deal with on the dragon.
The dragon shot out a burst of flame as the cannon blast charm signified the beginning of Harry’s task. Rolling to the left, he quickly called out ‘accio’ and summoned his broom. When the dragon’s blast stopped, it was only a few seconds later before the broom flew by, allowing him to hop on without worrying about it slowing down.
The dragon snapped at the brook as it passed over head. A stinging hex, not too strong nor weak, was shot from the holly wand. It served to anger the beast, and the tail swung towards the annoying gnat. Harry barely dodged it, but couldn’t dodge the swiping of the claws. Three talons gouged the right arm and was the catalyst for screams.
‘Darn. I need to be more careful. Just get the egg and get out.’ Went through Harry’s head, as he danced between the clutch and dragon he is dueling. Harry made two more sorties, circling the head and sending out spells to try and get it to lift off the ground. When that happens, he would be able to swoop in and grab the egg quickly.
“GO HARRY!” Hermione cheered, with a scant few other Gryffindors joining in. Each spell that landed increased their cheering until the dragon sent out a cone of fire that slammed against the shields erected by Dumbledore.
“FULGAR!” The blast of lightning came out of the holly wand, giving off a small shock. With one fierce beat of her wings, the nesting mother took off and revealed that it was toying with Harry. The chain that held it down was shattered with a yank.
The tamers were about to rush and subdue the majestic creature, only for it land in front and blowing smoke into their faces.
Most tamers ran, though Charlie Weasley and two others stood their ground. Dumbledore, ever vigilant, looked over at Mad-Eye, but noticed something off. He was grinning, quite viciously, at the scene of the dead tamers. Using his gentlest probe, he silently cast Legilmens and snapped off a quick stunner.
“Minerva, Filius, search his quarters and the classrooms for his trunk. Inside, you shall find the real Moody.” His aura was visible, turning from a brilliant blue to orange, representing just how angry he was becoming. Barty Sr, looking at the headmaster, was shocked at the stunner that struck him. “I shall floo Amelia after helping secure the dragon. Then we shall make sure all know the truth.” A piercing scream caused the judges to pause in fear.
The shields protecting the students had fallen, with a cone of fire closing in.
“Is that all you got you overgrown oven!?” Harry screamed out, pushing more power into his shield than humanly possible. Albus gasped at the pure white aura, with the horcrux being forcibly expunged from the boy’s scar. As if frozen in time, not a single noise disturbed the silence. Not even the still burning flames dared to, for the pure absurdity of Harry’s power had not yet sunk in.
“Stellas” a burst of stars burst through the flames, striking the dragon and leaving small scratches. Another burst, and the students got to see a sight that harkened back to the days of Merlin and the Founders: a warrior mage.
And, much like the old mythological stories of a hero battling a dragon, Harry stood strong like King Arthur and stated defiantly at the monster. In his left hand was the Sword of Gryffindor, allowing the visage of the Horntail to stare at one another. In his right was a holly wand.
For the briefest of moments, Albus found himself transported into the old legends he had grown up on. Stories of Saint George taming and slaying the dragon and other heroes felling great beasts. Norse mythology of a great serpent bent on destruction.
Unlike those stories, however, was that the hero wasn’t a man. He’s a teenager. One that bears the burden of Atlas. Should he fail, Voldemort would soon rule a world glassed by the nuclear arsenals of all. Only the beat of flapping wings broke him out of the trance.
‘Sweet Merlin!’ He thought as a severing charm ripped off a few scales. ‘To damage a dragon, with a first-year spell that, truthfully, shouldn’t have done more than tickle it, is an impressive feat.’ More dragon’s breath danced with some spell that he didn’t know. ‘Not even Tom could launch as many spells with precision and brute strength.’
Looking over at the stands, Dumbledore found himself shocked that most of the students returned to their seats, as if the danger was nothing more than a silly little show for their entertainment. Like the gladiatorial combat of the Roman Empire was for those who were free.
“I hope you’re ready.” Harry painted, sweat mixing with the dirt and blood on his face. Scars formed from bad landings and the talons, though he wasn’t able to see all the attacks from the fiercest dragon breed. His eyes widened as the dragon inhaled, releasing the normal occlumency shields that were there, allowing the venerable headmaster to truly understand how bad everything truly was.
A supporter of Voldemort had been on the grounds, and managed to subdue a tamer in order to have her weaken the chains for the Horntail, before removing her memory of him and her actions. The dragon, knowing of the weakness, knew that it would be a boon for when she needed to protect her clutch.
‘Where could the person have gone? Harry can not defend against the follower and dragon at the same time.’ Albus turned his attention, and ability to read magic, to the teachers. It wasn’t an ability he could use all the time due to how it could blind him, but he considered this to be a justified reason. Not seeing anything different, he pulled the Elder Wand and prepared to send his strongest light spell when Harry spoke up.
[I do not wish to fight you.] The beast stopped, blowing out the smoke and fire softly into a crater created as a smokescreen. [Allow me to remove the false egg from your clutch, noble protector, and I shall leave. If you don’t, then I can not guarantee the full safety for your children.]
Those words, hissed with the ferociousness of a basilisk’s stare, caused her to shiver. Not since days long past, potentially even before recorded history, had a dragon felt fear. Yet, the fiercest dragon known to man felt it. Even with the blood flowing from gashes, the smell of singed hair, and the shattered ground of the arena surrounding the clutch, both fighters felt respect for the other forming in the forges of pitched combat. A soft nod gave birth to a new legend. One that rivalled Dumbledore’s duel with Grindelwald and the reported duel between Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor.
After all, only one could claim to have survived a killing curse from point blank range, and managed to subdue a dragon without losing a limb or having burns covering their body.
“We shall move to the Great Hall.” Dumbledore announced, feeling the wards pinging him about a floo call. “We shall be there for as long as it takes Harry to return, and that night, we shall have a feast that shames those in the Norse Valhalla!”
Harry landed on the beach where the Azkaban Ferry, as Sirius deemed it, was. The pilot laid next to it, clutching a bleeding wound on his side. Walking over to him, Harry knelt down and summoned his magic to help out before sending a messenger Patronus to Amelia Bones.
“Do not worry. Madame Bones will be here with help soon.” The man nodded, trying to keep his consciousness. The wound was throbbing with a burning sensation, but it was cooling off. That frightened him. He didn’t want to die, not while his wife was pregnant.
As Harry stood, he heard the popping familiar with apparition. He saw the woman who held no fear looking at him with trepidation. “Madame Bones, he needs medical attention. I am going to Azkaban. Alone. Keep your forces on the beach, prepared to send out their patroni should any dementor flee from the island.” She nodded, though it painted her.
Children are our future, yet here is Harry Potter. A boy who has seen death up close, been blamed for so much, and had to deal with an unsupportive ministry while Fudge held the reins. Now he is going into the lion’s den, with no support from us or the goblins whom he impressed with his words.
She watched, and felt, as he grasped most of the wards surrounding the prison, leaving only those that would prevent muggles from approaching, and ripped them to shreds. An act that had been unheard of.
I can see why that Horntail aided him in Hogsmeade. His power, his conviction, could make anyone believe that he was their only way to safety. A deterrent that has the loyalty of many and the strength of character to back his words up. Fudge, when all is revealed, shall truly understand that we haven’t seen the true Potter.
Harry landed in front of the gates, blowing them open with a flick of the wand. The dementors surrounding the last few survivors of Azkaban turned and approached him, while the death eaters sent out a barrage of spells. Raising an earthen wall, Harry allowed the spells to make contact before breaking it and sending the chunks back. Looking at the dementors, he sent out his stag, but found a surprise with it.
It was silver, but escorted by a golden dragon that roared and tore through the demonic entities that once acted as guards. Their screeches tore through the air, summoning the LeStrange family. Bellatrix wore a feral grin at the sight, while her husband and brother-in-law snarled. Three killing curses shot out of their wands, and seemed to make contact with the student.
“I was allowing you to repent for your evil Ways. Now, you shall be executed for them. Prepare to see your ancestors.” Harry’s voice was laced with magic, making it reverberate through the jail. A barrage of golden arrows shot out in rapid succession, overwhelming and sending a small fraction of pain into the trio. The arrows, which Harry lovingly referred to as the Honest Judgement barrage, struck the magical paths within, and they dished out a pain similar to what their victims endured.
He continued into the building, sending a bombarda at the Death Eater who entered the room. He followed up with severing charms and explosive hexes towards some of the inner circle. Bludgeoning charms shot out of many wands, but Harry used the protego diabolica to create a ring of purple flames to prevent the spells from reaching him. He grinned as the flames turned into three phoenixes and surged into the ranks of the invaders.
“Severus Snape!” Harry’s voice broke through the stillness of the phoenix attack. The man stood up defiantly, with Antonin Dolohov, Fenrir Greyback, and Lucius Malfoy surrounding him. “I warned you. Have you delivered my warning to Riddle?”
“I did not, you arrogant brat! You have no idea of what will happen to you when our master gets his hands on you. Do not worry, though, for I shall inform Dumbledore that you died, begging for mercy.” The others laughed, until they noticed Harry’s grin.
“Oh really? Shall I reveal how well that has gone for the others?” Fenrir snarled, before realizing that he was smelling Lupin on him.
“Ah. You must be close to Lupin. Your head will be a nice gift to him. And your Mudblood would be a nice addition to my pack.” He was cut off when a silver whip materialized from Harry’s wand. It cut into Fenrir’s skin, causing a howl of pain to erupt from the wolf.
“Enjoy a slow, painful death Greyback. For that wound will not heal until you repent your actions. Your transformation shall now burn with the flames of a phoenix that will guard any potential victim you would like to mark.” And burn it did.
His howls echoed through the dreary prison, and deep within the bowels of the ancient prison, Voldemort felt fear grip his tattered soul. Only Rookwood, Yaxley, and Travers were with him, and they found their blood running so cold, the effects of the dementors would’ve felt warm.
Back with Snape and his small squad, he watched as Harry parried spells and returned fire with much more dangerous spells. A ball of lightning shooting out and shattering animated golems, while the dark magic that had seeped into the lore of Azkaban swam through the soldiers, begging to be used. To torture and maim all in its path.
A sectumsempra from Hogwarts’ most hated professor collided with a blade of fire, creating a backlash that pushed all further away from one another. Lucius shot out spell after spell into the smoke, giving Dolohov enough time to create Inferi from the bodies surrounding them.
“Lucius, though I do not like Draco, I promised him that I will offer you the opportunity to surrender. Take it and leave with your life. Refuse, and I shall become the reaper of your soul. Choose wisely.”
“Never. I shall never surrender to a half-blood like you!” The refusal was met with a whip of pure light severing his wand arm, followed by two gouging spells that collapsed his lungs. Lucius Malfoy, in the last few moments of his life, started into the green eyes of the Last Potter. As more Inferi rushed towards their position, he saw the flames of a phoenix shoot out towards them.
For all that Snape spoke of Harry, Lucius knew that his power was hidden. And now, with his last, gargled breath, he wished it had remained buried.
“Dolohov. Are you ready to die?” The man snarled in response. Harry knew of his reputation. His favorite past time was to force the men watch as he placed their wives and daughters under the Imperius and have his way with them. Then he would execute all with his own spell.
“I’ll kill you!” The purple spell he was infamous for sped towards the Boy-Who-Lived, and he grinned, until it was deflected. Two piercing spells struck him, one for the brain, the other for the heart, leaving Snape alone. The former Potions professor from Hogwarts knew that his time had come. The child of the man he loathed and woman he lusted after was still standing. Inferi bodies still burned, and the cloaks of the dementors surrounded him. Lucius’s chest, with the gouging spells, was caved in, and his face echoed the amount of pain he went through in those last moments.
Dolohov had fear etched on his face, with the two holes seemingly taunting him. A schoolboy destroyed his reputation in but a second. Deflecting the created spell with nothing more than a glare. Fenrir was still alive, though that was debatable. Unless he showed actual repentance, his death would be drawn out. And if he truly repented, his followers would not allow him to live for very long.
Harry had, unfortunately, proven himself to be more Slytherin than Salazar himself.
That thought, that painful nugget of knowledge, was the last thing Snape ever thought. A blast of lightning knocked him back into the wall, knocking him out until his delivery to the goblins.
The last three Death Eaters lost their wand arms, with Harry barely breaking a sweat. Rookwood would be handled over to Croaker, and Fudge would be unable to ignore the bitter truth. When the people learned the truth, Harry was sure that there’d be a new minister by the end of the day. And the Prophet would have to deal with the fact that, due to their own stupidity, they would never have the right to publish an interview from him.
“I see that you have hidden your true power. A cunning move, worthy of any first year Slytherin.” Voldemort stated, a sick smile on his face. “Yet I cannot help but wonder what Dumbledore would think if he saw the carnage you have wrought?”
“He’d offer me a lemon drop. Unfortunately for you, though, this wasn’t hidden. You just didn’t bother to actually look deeper than the hatred Snape had for me. If you did, you would’ve fled a long time ago.”
“Oh? So confident in your abilities that you view yourself stronger than I? The Heir of the greatest Founder himself? A man so versed in the darkness that even I, the greatest wizard of all time, would be nothing but a first year in His presence?”
“I am stronger than you. For you fail to comprehend the truth of Salazar. You view his mastery of the dark arts as him seeking tools to conquer the world, yet fail to look at the school he helped create. A place designed to protect the children from any who wished harm on them. He used his skills to create many passageways to offer safety to them, while allowing the Founders to have enough time to fend off any assault.”
“Oh, to be so naïve again. It is utterly adorable, seeing a foolish boy trying to explain the history of a man I had studied for decades. He wished for those who hold only the purest blood to rule, with the filthy mudbloods being tamed and muggles being nothing but slaves to them. The creatures would be destroyed, for they hold no place in the Utopia that my ancestor dreamed of.”
“You are wrong, but I tire of talking. Let us fight, and when I come out victorious, you shall realize that I was right.” Spell fire broke out, with the lights being reminiscent of the Aurora Borealis. Both were bleeding from many nicks and cuts, but Harry was a little bit better. His youth aiding him in keeping up a ferocious pace for sending the spells.
In contrast, Voldemort was slowing down, but he was still dangerous. Whereas Harry went with quality, Voldemort went for quantity. Harry’s spells were ones he practiced, and even a few original spells that he had been working on with Hermione and Ron. Voldemort didn’t care about using spells he was familiar with. He just wanted to overwhelm the defenses.
“You are a worthy opponent. Join me, and I shall teach more than that mudblood lover ever could.” Voldemort offered during a lull in the fighting. Harry chuckled before launching a chain of spells that Voldemort couldn’t block. The yew wand was cut in half, with his arms getting lopped off. The last two spells, however, were unique.
They were from the Mayan civilization, with the first banishing a soul, and the second one dragged it into the plains of limbo. Even though he used Horcruxes, the spells didn’t care. They dragged all pieces down with the one from the construct created by Wormtail’s ritual.
Amelia Bones sat at the Head Table with the professors, waiting to see if Harry managed to end the threat of Voldemort. Cornelius Fudge was there as well, though he had his own plans. If he could arrest Potter in such a public fashion, with the reporters from the Prophet hiding under disillusionment charms, then he could frame everything to where he would look good. He’d clear Lucius, and would continue on being the Minister for years to come.
Yet, all that disappeared in the blink of an eye. Lucius and the Dark Lord arrived with Harry, with only Harry breathing. The reporters dropped their charms out of shock, and the Aurors had their wands out and pointed at the bodies.
“Lucius is already dead. Killed on Azkaban, as he attempted to prevent me from reaching Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as Voldemort. Severus Snape has been delivered to the goblins, as they wished to deal out the justice for their slain king. And, of course, the man I warned you about Fudge. Voldemort, the person who you claimed didn’t return, dead by my hands. To the Prophet reporters, do you remember all those little comments about me, my parents, and Dumbledore? All coming from the pathetic worm who fancied himself a Minister even though all knew he was a bumbling fool?” He allowed the outrage from Fudge and Umbridge to die down before continuing. “Yeah. Due to them, I shall take legal action against you should you decide to use my name or words in any future paper. For instead of confirming my words with Veritaserum or a Pensieve, you followed the whims of a man who was BRIBED by Death Eaters. A man who allowed bigotry to run rampant amongst the ministry staff, with his undersecretary actively leading the campaign to isolate the werewolves and others. A woman who, if questioned under Veritaserum, would reveal many more crimes committed that Fudge swept under the rug.” He gave Fudge a sinister smile.
“Tell me, Cornelius Fudge, how does it feel? How does it feel to know that you were the single greatest ally Voldemort had this time? For by ignoring our warnings, you gave him time to build an army. An army that, as of now at least, almost destroyed Hogsmeade had it not been for Dumbledore’s Army. An army that unleashed Inferi upon the Aurors of Azkaban, before freeing his most zealous followers. How does it feel to know that, when I stood up and spoke the truth about the death of Cedric Diggory, a man who was truly the best this school could offer, you spat on his name. Do you remember the Quidditch game where the dementors caused me to fall? He offered up a rematch immediately afterwards. Something that no other would’ve done. I can only hope that Madame Bones, Amos Diggory, or Arthur Weasley takes the post of Minister and restores it to the prestige and respect it should hold. Two things you and the Prophet have lost.”
“And Umbridge, I guess your detentions were for nothing at all. Apparently I never told a lie, but you have. That must be embarrassing for you.”
With that said, the feast commenced with Harry grabbing a slice of pumpkin pie and sitting next to Hermione. Others followed suit, and they all watched as the reporters, Minister, and the undersecretary fled the school in shame. The words spoken by the slayer of Voldemort would circulate within The Quibbler over the following days, ruining Fudge’s reputation and causing such backlash that the Prophet had lost a lot of subscribers. Umbridge, however, had it the worst. She was dosed with Veritaserum and revealed that she sent the dementors after Harry during the summer. She had been an accessory to many deaths, all covered up, and was sent to the ICW for another trial as she broke the Statute of Secrecy by sending the dementors after Harry.